


The Right Thing

by ivanna



Category: Asteroid (1997), Now and Again
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanna/pseuds/ivanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael Wiseman returns after his escape and starts working with FEMA. The meeting with Jack Wallach changes his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Now and Again / Asteroid crossover 
> 
> Many thanks to Tarlan for beta reading.

Dr. Theodore Morris couldn't believe his ears when Special Agent #1 told him that the Police had noticed Mr. Wiseman in the Central Park in New York City. For two months Dr. Morris had been searching for Mr. Wiseman, but Mr. Wiseman, his wife and his daughter had disappeared without a trace. Now he was just sitting there waiting to be captured – it was unbelievable! Undoubtedly, the police officer was mistaken. How many 26 year old guys of height 6 feet, weight 175 pounds, brown hair and blue eyes were in New York City? Definitely, that guy in the park couldn't be Mr. Wiseman, but Dr. Morris had to go and see him for himself. He ordered his chauffeur to bring the limo to the entrance of the townhouse on 63rd and Madison. 

He arrived at the park and headed down the alley indicated by a police officer. He saw a bench near a pond and a guy sitting on it, throwing crumbs to ducks. Dr. Morris stopped dead in his tracks. That was Michael Wiseman. Astonishment and bewilderment mixed in Dr. Morris' mind and then another feeling overwhelmed him. Fear. He remembered the conversation when Mr. Wiseman threatened to run away for the first time. He said then, 'I'll track you to the end of the Earth', and Mr. Wiseman had answered him, 'Perfect, Uh-uh, perfect. And one minute before you catch up with me, I'll kill myself'. What if Mr. Wiseman still wanted to do that? How could he stop him? How could he face it? He used to say, 'If something should happen to you, and I had a couple of billion dollars and a new brain, I could build another unit to replace you'. But in fact he couldn't do it. Not because he didn't have the money but because this unit was too important to him. His experiment. It was not only an experiment but a man. A person. Mr. Wiseman. He had risked his life to save Mr. Wiseman's brain in that body. What if in the next second..?

Michael Wiseman raised eyes that were a carefully-chosen blue shade and looked straight at Dr. Morris. 

"I'm back," he said in his rusty voice. 

Dr. Morris approached him slowly and cautiously. 

"Why?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter why. I'm here and I'll never run away again." 

Michael got up heavily as if he was an old and broken man rather than a genetically bio-engineered superman. Dr. Morris eyed him closely. He couldn't see any body damage but he began to wonder what kind of mental damage Mr. Wiseman had sustained. Mr. Wiseman looked like the brainless body he had created a year ago rather than the man he used to know two months ago. 

"Let's get this man home," he said to Special Agent #1.

 

The townhouse on 63rd and Madison, his 'terrarium', was still the same, but Michael didn't pay much attention to his surroundings. He went to the bedroom and lay on the bed, turning away from Dr. Morris and pressing a pillow to his chest. He closed his eyes, and a tear rolled out from under his eyelids. Funny, he could cry. The Doc had created this body scrupulously. Well, now the Doc would be really happy because Michael was going to spend his whole life here. No, he didn't have a life, he had an existence. He was a prototype who had to exist until he ended up in a trash bag by a curb. 

-//-//-//-

Dr. Morris was standing in the "Toys'B'Fun" truck staring at the monitor hooked to the surveillance camera in the bedroom. He didn't liked what he could see at all. On the monitor's screen Mr. Wiseman was lying still on the bed, and the camera was showing the same picture the whole week since they got Mr. Wiseman back. Dr. Morris might have suspected that the equipment was broken but he knew that if he entered the bedroom right now he would see the same image. It reminded him of the days when Mr. Wiseman was brain-dead but this time his brain continued to function. Just his heart was dead, and no High-tech technology could repair that damage. 

One night Mr. Wiseman confessed what had happened. After their escape he, Lisa and Heather had gone to Canada. He told them who he was and they tried to rebuild their family, but they failed. The past year had changed them too much. A new body and new opportunities had affected his mind. He still loved his family but he couldn't live an ordinary life anymore. He dreamed about it but in reality he just couldn't do it, and Lisa had changed too, she had become a new, strong, independent woman. She still loved Michael Wiseman, her late husband, and she had feelings for Michael Newman, but she couldn't love Wiseman in Newman's body. 

"I had thought she would wait for me forever," Michael said staring blankly at the brick wall.

"What you have to remember is that she wasn't waiting for you," Dr. Morris answered. 

That was right. A new Michael wasn't her beloved old Michael. She didn't trust him anymore. She couldn't forgive him for having lied to her for almost a year, and no family could survive without trust. They struggled to maintain their relationship but finally she gave up and told him she couldn't stand it anymore. Even Heather couldn't help them to make a family. She was excited to have a father-superman but at the same time she was embarrassed that her father looked more like her brother. She and Lisa had their own lives, friends, and a future in New York City. Michael helped them to return in their old house, then went to the Central Park. He had nowhere else to go and he had nobody who cared about him. 

"They aren't a threat to you, Doc. Leave them alone," Michael said.

Morris didn't argue it. That night when he stole Mr. Wiseman's brain-dead body had opened his eyes to many things. Anyway, he couldn't hurt Michael even if he wanted to do it. He just didn't have the men and money anymore. 

Michael's escape had endangered the project. The Department of Defense refused to continue funding it, and Morris had been forced to look for new funding opportunities elsewhere. The thought brought Morris back to reality. He took one last look at the image on the monitor's screen which hadn't changed and went to the townhouse. 

"Mr. Wiseman, we need to talk," Morris said as he entered the bedroom. 

Michael heard him but he didn't turn to face him. 

"Mr. Wiseman."

"What do you want, Doc?"

"Mr. Wiseman, I gave you enough time to come back to your senses and now it's time to get back to work. In fact, I think the work will be better therapy for you than bathing in self-pity."

"You're awfully smart, Doc."

"Mr. Wiseman."

Michael sighed. He couldn't get rid of the Doc so easily. He turned onto his back. "What?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong but you were acquainted with the rules at the beginning of our... acquaintance. You have bent these rules many times in different ways. I have to admit, I have too. The original plan was perfect but it didn't stand the test of reality, and because of your thoughtless activity, we have lost funding and now we have to reconsider other forms of our work." 

Michael listened to him indifferently.

"And apart from defending your country, another way to serve America is..."

"In the trash bag."

Dr. Morris ignored that and exclaimed, "FEMA!"

Michael raised his eyes and looked up at him.

"Today I had a meeting with the director of FEMA and he was very excited with the idea of having a man of your strength and abilities in the agency." 

"You want to stop hurricanes with me?"

"Not yet, I need to think about it and research the idea. But you could be better than any rescue team and you can save people and property from disasters."

Michael closed his eyes.

"The director has agreed to fund us. Of course it's only a very small amount, but we don't have much choice. The only problem is you will have to go through special training, though that problem has been solved already. The ex-director of FEMA has agreed to train you personally. In fact, he'll be here in a few minutes, so I strongly suggest you to raise your ass and put yourself in order."

Michael moaned inwardly. He knew this tone, it meant the Doc saw a new scientific challenge and nothing could stop him now. 

"I really hope, Doc, this instructor isn't a pretty girl like the last one," he muttered.

"No, Mr. Wiseman, he isn't. His name is Jack Wallach. You might have heard about him and seen him on the TV a few years ago when an asteroid hit. In fact, he is a big friend of the President, so I'm begging you to be really nice to him."

Michael didn't want to recall the past years and he didn't want to think about that FEMA guy either. He still was lying in bed. 

"Mr. Wiseman..."

Michael never knew what Morris planned to say because the doorbell rang at that moment. Dr. Morris headed to the front door. He opened the door and smiled at the man in the doorway.

"Good morning, Mr. Wallach. A pleasure to see you." 

"Jack," the man corrected him. "Are you Dr. Morris, right?"

"Absolutely right, Jack. I run this project and Mr. Wiseman is my experiment."

"What do you mean your experiment? He's a man, isn't he? So why do you talk about him as if he is a thing?"

Dr. Morris was taken aback by Jack's rebuke. 

"I'll let you be the judge of that," he said finally. "Follow me."

He led Jack across the house into the bedroom. Jack stared around at brick walls covered in ivy, steel doors, a pool in an otherwise empty middle room. They entered the bedroom which seemed empty too. Jack looked at the bed covered in crumpled gray sheets. 

"If you want to know, I really am a thing," a rusty voice said and Jack almost jumped in surprise. He turned around and finally saw the inhabitant of this strange place who was sitting in the chair in the corner. 

He was a young man. A really young man who looked like perfection itself. Jack felt his jaw dropped with amazement. He couldn't take his eyes off this man and stared at him, vaguely aware that his behavior was rude. 

Michael was confused by this look. He was used to people staring at him but in the eyes of this man was something more than just curiosity. There was something very close to a contemplation of a miracle. Michael lowered his eyes in embarrassment but the image of this man was now imprinted in his memory. A tall lean blond, 40 years old or so, wearing pale jeans, a blue shirt and a brown jacket. His body proportions were so perfect, his face was so handsome that if Michael didn't know better he would think this man was the Doc's creation too. 

"No, you aren't," the man said, and his soft voice sent shivers down Michael's spine. 

Michael got up and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot feeling as his cheeks started to blush. He tried to regain his composure and said, "Hey, I'm Michael. Welcome to the Newman project."

Michael's t-shirt and sweats were doing nothing to hide his body and Jack was stunned by the view before him with new force. 

"Jack. Thanks. I glad you want to help to FEMA," he managed to say and held out his hand. 

Michael carefully shook his hand. Jack looked down at Michael fingers. They were warm and Michael's smooth skin was a real and alive. 

"It's Doc's idea, not mine. I'm sorry, I have to get dressed."

He freed his hand from Jack's grip and disappeared into the bathroom. Jack turned to Dr. Morris who had watched them silently and said, "I was told he is a man with extraordinary strength and speed but he's just a kid."

"Looks can be deceiving, Jack," Dr. Morris answered. "Let's go into the middle room and get ready for your training session."

 

Michael joined them not long after. He had changed into a tank top and another pair of sweats. His strong muscular shoulders were fully exposed now, a thin vest stretched across his well defined pectorals and his six pack stomach. He sat on the side of the pool and asked Jack, "What do you want me to do?"

"First, we study the theory. I have a training program here," Jack nodded at his laptop standing on the table. "Then we get to practice in the training center."

"Oh no, I know that practice thing," Michael muttered remembering the Doc's experiments with the weather chamber. 

"Excuse me?" Jack asked confused.

"Mr. Wiseman has a strong aversion to physical exercise," Dr. Morris explained. 

"Why?" Jack said. "Having a body like this you should use it for the benefit of humanity, for saving people's life and the wealth of the country. It's a crime to sit here hidden from the global problems in this... terrarium."

Michael stared at him open-mouthed. 

"You know, Jack," he drawled, "If Doc here hadn't said you're with FEMA I would suspect that you're with another Church of Elevation or something like that."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to preach." 

"Well, I think Doc likes your point. He is very passionate about global things too. Right, Doc?"

Michael looked around but Dr. Morris was nowhere to be seen. 

"Where's the Doc?" Michael asked himself rather than Jack but Jack answered,

"I think he left us a few minutes ago."

"Yeah, right, he probably went off to watch a movie about us."

"What do you mean?"

"There are cameras everywhere, Doc monitors this place."

"Why?"

Michael struggled, "Because I'm his experiment, remember?"

Jack shook his head. He had only spent half an hour in this place and was already starting to feel like he was going crazy. His life had been quiet and measured until this morning and now he was being dragged into some weird project. But deep inside he knew he didn't want to be anywhere else. He eyed Michael's short brown hair, boyish face with a square jawline and then his gaze met Michael's huge, bright blue eyes. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, and then looked away in confusion. 

"Let's start," Jack murmured.

"Uh-uh."

Michael rose smoothly to his feet and sat at the table next to Jack. They bent over the laptop. Michael felt the warmth coming from Jack's body and for some unknown reason it confused him almost as much as he was confused by the look in Jack's fern-green eyes. 

 

That night when the lights went down exactly at 23:00, Michael didn't think about his past. Instead all his thoughts were about his present. He was lying in his wide bed thinking about the day spent with Jack, their training together, their future together. Jack said FEMA had plans to make a FEMA Corps dedicated to disaster response and recovery. Jack and Michael would be the first members of that corps, and Michael was looking forward it. He fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

-//-//-//-

Next morning when Jack went into the townhouse on 63rd and Madison he found Michael not in bed but in the gym. 

"Hey, Jack," Michael greeted him. "Do you mind if I finish my work out? Doc eats me alive if I skip it." 

"Take your time," Jack answered trying not to sound too hoarse. The sight of Michael's lithe body and the flexing of his strong muscles under his tanned skin unsettled Jack. 

"You can join me," Michael proposed.

"No, thanks."

The answer sounded harsh and Michael threw a glance at Jack. He looked stern, and his full lips were pressed tightly. He sat at the table, opened his laptop and stilled, staring at its screen. 

Michael's innocent offer reopened his unhealed wound. He couldn't use a gym, not with Michael and all these fucking cameras around. He couldn't enjoy life, he couldn't keep a family, he couldn't be the Director of FEMA. The asteroid that had fallen four years ago had cost him a lot. He became lost in memories.

Everything had seemed fine after he got Elliot out of that crater. His ribs hurt a bit but he didn't pay much attention to it. He and Lily stood together, ready to face the beginning of the new day and their new life. A few hours later the dull pain in his chest became so intense that he could barely breathe and his right arm became numb. He was sent to the hospital. The doctor told him his second and third ribs were broken, and an injury of that nature was always difficult because of the major blood vessels and nerves located just beneath the bone. Numbness of his arm meant his nerves were damaged. He spent a lot of time in hospital but the doctors couldn't save his arm completely. Now he could use his right arm as before but the numbness could return at any moment, and then his arm hung limp and useless. He had left his position at FEMA, and Lily with Elliot too. He hadn't wanted to burden them with himself; they deserved better. 

The light touch on his shoulder and the rough voice brought him back to reality.

"Jack, are you okay?" 

He looked up and met the concerned gaze of Michael's eyes. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about the past."

Michael nodded in understanding. He knew what kind of power the past has over a man.

"Stop it," he advised. "Let's have breakfast."

"You inviting me?"

"Yeah... if you like Brussels sprouts and peas."

Jack chuckled. "Do you really eat them?"

"Doc says I'll live a long and healthy life if I give up all the good things." 

"Oh yeah, any life would look like an eternity without all the good things." 

Michael smiled broadly. "Bingo!"

 

Sitting in front of the monitor's screen in the truck, Dr. Morris watched them. He was surprised how easy Mr. Wiseman felt himself with Jack Wallach. Mr. Wiseman never was like that before. He looked... Morris pondered, but only one word described perfectly Mr. Wiseman's state. He looked happy. It was interesting from a scientific point of view. 

-//-//-//-

A month had passed, and it was the best month in Michael's new life. He enjoyed his training and the time spent with Jack. The training had nothing in common with the Doc's experiments. Jack took him into the Emergency Management Institute in Emmitsburg, Maryland, and then they attended a few training classes in New York City. Jack was pleased with Michael's progress.

"Next week I'll take you to the FEMA HQ in Washington, DC," he said when they were driving home one evening. "I think you're ready for the real job."

"Looking forward to it," Michael answered honesty.

"Hungry?"

"Are you asking?"

Jack chuckled. "Yeah, right, a stupid question."

He ordered a driver to stop near a diner. That was their nightly ritual. They ate together talking about the events of the day and plans for the future. Sometimes they brought up personal things. Michael told Jack about his former life with Lisa and Heather. Jack shared his experience with FEMA. He was eager to talk about the asteroid but he never mentioned what had happened after that. Michael enjoyed these conversations even more than the great food. 

After dinner they got back into the limo and returned to Michael's townhouse. Jack escorted Michael and opened the door but paused on the threshold, not wanting to call it a night. 

"Do you want to come in?" Michael asked.

"No. I just... I just thought, what if we have some sort of a celebration this weekend?"

"A celebration? What do you have in mind?"

"Perhaps a trip to the mountains and outdoor camping. New York is an awful place in August. What do you think?" 

"Wow. It sounds great. But what about the Doc?"

"I think he'll give his permission; you'll be my responsibility. Or do you want him with us?"

"You know his idea about the trip to the mountains would be to drop me from a plane in the middle of the nowhere without food, water or a compass."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

"Well, then let him stay at home. I'll talk with him tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

Jack wanted to say something else but changed his mind. He stared in Michael's eyes for a few seconds then turned away and went to the limo. 

"Bye, Michael," he threw on the move.

"Bye," Michael echoed. 

Michael closed the door and slowly went to the bedroom. The thought of a trip was exciting but something bothered him. Something in Jack's eyes. There was a strange feeling that he couldn't name in those eyes. He automatically did his evening tasks and he went to bed still thinking about it. 

Sleep had almost overcome him when he got it. Michael sat up abruptly in bed when he realized what he was seeing in Jack's eyes. The reason why he didn't realize it earlier was because no one was ever looked at him like that. The feeling in Jack's eyes was desire. 

Michael dropped on the pillows. He grabbed frantically for the blanket and pulled it to his chin. What should he do now? How should he react to this? In his 45 years he hadn't been around a lot of women and he sure had never been around men. He used to joke about such things but he had never thought about it seriously, and he wasn't sure he wanted to think seriously about it now. 

'But why?' he asked himself inwardly. 'What do you have to lose?' He was dead already. He had lost his family. He was destined to live forever alone in this terrarium. His previous view of his life crashed. What was the point of holding on to the last fragment of his former life? He liked Jack, he liked to spend time with him. In fact, Jack was the only man in his entourage who treated him like a real person. 

'Maybe it's just my imagination. What did Doc use to say? 'There's a word for that fear. It's called narcissism.' Maybe I'm so unaccustomed to normal communication that I'm misunderstanding an ordinary friendship. Yeah, right. Now go to sleep.'

He turned on his side and slipped his hand under the pillow, making himself comfortable. He closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep, but against his will the new thought occupied his mind. What would it be like to be with Jack? Michael felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment and for the first time he silently thanked Doc for turning the lights off at 23:00. No need for Doc and his assistants to see him now through that damn camera on the ceiling.

-//-//-//-

The trip to the mountains was amazing. Michael enjoyed the time spending outdoors without continuous surveillance and control. They camped beside the riverbank and when night fell, they started a fire. They were sitting looking at the dancing flames, the night air was filled with the smell of grass, the sounds of crickets and crackling firewood.

"This night is perfect," Michael said. 

Jack turned his head and eyed Michael's profile. Michael's tanned skin was glowing like gold, his long dark lashes cast shadows on his high cheekbones. Michael looked mature and young at the same time, seductive and innocent. The feelings overwhelmed Jack. He leaned closer and touched Michael's lips with his own. 

Michael was startled by the kiss and pulled back. 

"I'm sorry," Jack said hoarsely. "I didn't want... I don't know what came over me. I'm really sorry."

Michel looked at him. His deep blue eyes glimmering in the flickering light of the campfire and Jack couldn't read them. Then his lips parted and he whispered, "Don't be sorry." 

He moved forward and put his hands on Jack's shoulders. His lips paused near Jack's and then he covered Jack's mouth with his own. Their kiss was long, sweet and full of promise. When they parted finally Michael pulled back slightly and lowered his head. Jack put his hand on Michael's chin and lifted his head gently.

"Are you sure?" he asked looking in Michael's eyes.

Michael nodded. 

Jack eyed his face and smiled upon noticing Michael's reddened ears. "Are you virgin?"

"I'm a 45 year old man. How can I be a virgin?" Michael snapped.

"Sssh. I like your blush." 

Michael's ears reddened even more. He cursed his body, which wasn't used to physical affection. He had never made love in his new life. He had tried with Lisa but she said she needed more time to get used to his new body and then she just left him. Now he felt like a teenager on his first date. 

"Everything will be okay," Jack whispered. 

He kissed Michael again, his hand slipped under Michael's shirt and slid over his smooth skin. Michael's muscles tensed under his touch and Jack marveled at the sensation of silky steel under his fingers. He wanted to see Michael's perfect body and tugged at the hem of his shirt, taking it off over Michael's head. Michael obediently lifted his hands and allowed Jack to do it. Jack threw the shirt away and started to kiss Michael's neck, shoulders, chest. Michael's body arched, he threw his head back and moaned with pleasure. Jack laid Michael on the blanket and covered him with his own body, using his right hand for support, his left hand ran down Michael's spine and cupped one firm globe of his ass. Michael clung to his shoulders, he was overwhelmed by the desire inflamed by Jack's kisses and caresses, and the closeness of his body. He felt Jack's hand on a zipper of his jeans and then Jack stilled hesitatingly. 

"Yeah," Michael moaned.

Jack undid his jeans and touched the aroused evidence of Michael's desire, then pulled away and looked down. Michael really was perfection, everywhere. The sight before Jack's eyes was more exciting than anything he had ever seen. He reached to touch Michael again and in the next moment his right arm which he supported himself went numb and he fell awkwardly on Michael. 

He was lying still, with his teeth clenched. How could he forget? How could he be so stupid? How could he burden Michael with himself? He was an old wreck and Michael was a young man with a new life. Michael deserved much better than he. He clumsily lifted off Michael's body and turned away.

"It was a mistake," he said sternly. 

Michael was confused. Everything was so good, better than good – and then Jack changed so suddenly. Something was wrong. What was wrong? Michael froze when he found the answer. *He* was wrong. People felt disgusted touching him. That was why Lisa didn't want to have sex with him. He was disgusting. 

He struggled to his feet and went stumbling to the river. At the bank he took off the remains of his clothing and went into the water. Waves had broken against his body, splashes of water had dotted his skin but he didn't felt it, the coldness of the water was nothing compared to the coldness in his soul. 

Jack watched him from a distance. Michael looked like a water deity bathed in the silver moonlight. He wasn't for him, a poor, pathetic mortal. 

-//-//-//-

Dr. Morris was puzzled. He couldn't figure out what had happened with Mr. Wiseman during the trip to the mountains but Mr. Wiseman was a different person after that. Jack Wallach wasn't very helpful in enlightening him, in fact, Jack avoided both him and Mr. Wiseman. 

Dr. Morris entered the townhouse and was surprised to see Mr. Wiseman sitting on the bench in the gym. 

"Hey, Doc," he called him. "Remember what you used to say about opening up the stitches in the back of my skull and pulling whatever is left of my personality out?"

"What are you trying to say, Mr. Wiseman?"

"Can you do it now?"

Dr. Morris looked at him speculatively. Michael stared straight at him, his eyes glistening with nervous tension. He really meant what he had just said. 

Dr. Morris slowly crossed the room, stood in front of Michael and asked while still eying him, "Do you mind telling me what brings you to this idea?"

"If I remember correct that was your idea."

"That was a threat."

"Okay. Now it may be an act of mercy."

Dr. Morris took a chair and sat before Michael. Leaning forward he asked with deliberation, "Mr. Wiseman, what happened to you?"

Michael dropped his eyes and blushed slightly. "Nothing."

"Mr. Wiseman, I have to remind you I know everything about every cell of your being. If something is wrong you have to tell me and I will solve the problem."

"Sorry, Doc, but you can do nothing about this. In fact, it's a direct consequence of your work."

"Can you explain it more clearly, Mr. Wiseman?"

Michael bit his lip, his blush became bright-red. Dr. Morris pondered what he knew and analyzed the facts. The conclusion that came out of those facts and observations was unexpected and Dr. Morris dismissed it at first but then he thought about it for a second time and this time the idea didn't look so weird. It was possible. 

"Did you have a relationship of some sort with Jack Wallach?" he asked.

Michael jumped to his feet. "What're you talking about?"

"After losing your wife and former life that is a normal reaction especially because Jack was very kind to you."

Michael turned away and lowered his head.

"No, we had nothing," he muttered barely audible. "And not because I didn't want it." 

"So why?"

"People feel disgusted touching my false flesh." 

"Why do you say that?"

"I've seen enough examples."

Dr. Morris paused for a moment, then said, "Remember, Mr. Wiseman, I told you that I am your only friend and that is as it should be. My original plan was perfect but you spoiled it with your unruly behavior. That should teach you to do what you're told. Now, Mr. Wiseman, quit thinking and start your work out. I'll leave you for a short while, I have to do something."

Michael nodded still avoiding looking at him. 

 

Jack paced his apartment, unable to sit still. The knock on the door startled him, and he went to the door and asked, "Who is it?"

"Dr. Morris."

Surprised Jack open the door and stepped aside to allow Morris to enter. 

"Good morning, Mr. Wallach," Dr. Morris said. 

"Morning. What do you want?" 

"I want an explanation." 

Jack nervously ran his hand through his blond hair, disheveling already tousled strands. "About what?"

"Please, Mr. Wallach, stop it. You know perfectly well what I mean."

Oh yeah, he knew. He gave Dr. Morris an icy glare. "I don't have to explain anything to anybody."

"Mr. Wiseman is under my care. Strictly speaking, he is the government property entrusted to me and now this property is in an unsatisfactory condition because of your activity."

"How the fuck can you say that?" Jack burst out. "Michael is a person, not a fucking property, do you understand me? You locked him in that terrarium where anyone can go crazy, deprived him of everything, treated him like a thing..."

Dr. Morris watched him as if Jack was his scientific experiment.

"What about you?" he interrupted Jack's tirade.

"What about me?" 

"How did you treat him? You fondled him and then kicked his ass to the curb?"

Jack's face became ashen, his fingers clenched into fists, and for a moment Dr. Morris was sure Jack would punch him. 

"I never wanted to hurt him," Jack said through his clenched teeth.

"But you did."

"I had to stop. I had to leave him. I can't give him what he needs. What right do I have to mess with his life? He's already suffered more than most people, so what his life would be like with me? He deserves better than me."

"You know, Mr. Wallach, I would totally agree with you if you hadn't started that you have started. But your actions have caused great harm to Mr. Wiseman's mental state."

"I hope he'll understand," Jack whispered.

Dr. Morris strongly doubted it.

 

When Dr. Morris returned to the townhouse he was met by an unexpected sight. Michael was hanging upside down on the bar swinging a press. His body rhythmically bending at the waist, lifting his torso up. Straightened once again, Michael noticed Dr. Morris and greeted cheerfully him, "Hey, Doc! What about lunch? I'm hungry. Even sprouted roots look appetizing to me now."

Dr. Morris lifted his eyebrows. "Something happened, Mr. Wiseman?" 

"Nope. Nothing. Nothing at all." 

Michael jumped off the bar and wiped his sweaty face with the hem of his tank top. 

"If you mean about our earlier conversation," he added, "I have to say I thought long and hard and came to the conclusion that all this isn't worth a rotten egg. Speaking of eggs. When do I get eggs for breakfast?"

His nonchalant tone didn't deceive Dr. Morris. Dark circles under Michael's dimmed blue eyes, his haggard face and restless activity told a different story. Dr. Morris sighed heavily. No wonder he couldn't create a human brain. It didn't submit to any scientific laws. 

-//-//-//-

The morning started as usual. Exactly at 6:00 a.m., the opening blinds and Dr. Morris' singing woke Michael. Showering accompanied by Dr. Morris' notations, followed by a breakfast of boiled Brussels sprouts and his morning workout were familiar and comforting, but the idyll was broken by the doorbell. Dr. Morris and Michael looked at each other in confusion and headed to the front door. Dr. Morris entered a code and opened the door. Jack stood in the doorway.

"Mr. Wallach..." Dr. Morris started but Jack interrupted him.

"Hurricane Gordon hit Florida and is heading north. Get ready, it'll be our job."

Early morning on September 18, hurricane Gordon made landfall near Cedar Key, Florida as a strong tropical storm. After moving inland, Gordon rapidly weakened and had deteriorated to tropical depression status nine hours later. However, later that day, Gordon merged with a frontal boundary while centered over Georgia. Gordon brought moderate storm surge to the west coast of Florida; one person drowned due to rough seas. Numerous trees and power lines sustained damage, leaving people without electricity. In the Tampa Bay area and Cedar Key, roof damage to houses and street flooding occurred. In addition, two tornadoes caused some damage in Cape Coral and Ponce Inlet. Two indirect fatalities occurred in North Carolina, and flooding was reported in South Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York. 

Michael Wiseman was everywhere his help was most needed. A few days he worked without rest saving people and goods, building dams and other tasks. Jack was with him and directed his work. Everything that had happened between them was put aside while they faced nature's fury.

They worked in Hatboro in Pennsylvania where the overflowed Pennypack Creek flooded the buildings. They made sure the residents of the town were safe and had power and provisions. 

Jack and Michael came out of one of the undamaged buildings where the flood victims were placed. A sight of the flooded town before their eyes was frustrating. 

"I need to talk with a mayor," Jack said. "Wait for me here."

He headed toward the City Hall while Michael looked after him. The wind gust swayed the tops of the trees growing along the street, and heavy rain lashed around. Suddenly Michael saw as a tall old poplar bend dangerously and then begin to fall, cracked at its base. The tree was falling on Jack's lone figure crossing the street.

"Jaaack!" Michael shouted but the roar of the wind and the rustle of rain drowned out his voice as well as the crackling of the broken tree. Michael rushed forward with all his superhuman speed. He reached Jack and pushed him away. The next moment the tree fell down and buried Michael beneath its branches. 

Jack didn't realize what had happened. He was bending over against the rain and wind and then something pushed him, and he flew a few yards before falling heavily onto the wet ground. He turned his head and saw a fallen tree lying just where he had been standing a moment ago. He remembered a shout... a voice... Michael voice. His heart froze when the realization came over him. 

"Michael!"

He got up and ran to the fallen tree. He had seen too many disasters in his life and knew an ordinary man couldn't survive being hit like that but he prayed Michael's artificially produced body had withstood the impact. He hoped so but his hope decreased as the minutes passed and there was no movement from under the tree. The crowd gathered around. Jack forced himself to quell his panic and organized removing the tree. Half an hour later he saw Michael. He was lying sprawled on the pavement, a few branches had pierced his torso, and puddles around were painted red with blood flowing from his body. His face looked intact but his skin was deadly pale. His eyes were open but no trace of consciousness was in them. 

"Michael," Jack gasped falling to his knees next to the lifeless body and taking Michael's cold limp fingers in his hand. 

"No one could survive that," Jack heard vaguely the murmur of bystanders. "Look at him – so young, almost a kid... What was he thinking..."

Jack reached his shaking hand and touched Michael's neck searching for his pulse. He found it. Too weak and uneven, but sufficient to keep the spark of life in Michael's tormented body. Jack frantically pulled out his cell and dialed Dr. Morris' number. When Dr. Morris answered the call, Jack said stammering, "Doc, Michael is hurt badly. We're in Hatboro."

"Don't let a local ambulance take him. I'll be there in half an hour."

"He's dying! He isn't gonna make it!" 

"He faced death once before and still lived. He'll make it again. Wait for me." 

Jack looked helplessly into Michael's blank blue eyes. 

-//-//-//-

Michael was rescued from the accident scene and brought to the hospital in New York where his body was created. He was still alive. The injuries that would have killed an ordinary man caused the reparable damage to his body. In fact, his body started healing itself almost immediately after removing the tree. Dr. Morris was sure physically Michael would be fine in a few days. Physically but not mentally. Dr. Morris was afraid to admit even to himself, but this time Michael really could be brain-dead. Dr. Morris didn't share his fears with anyone, knowing how much Michael needed the support right now, but deep inside he doubted Michael would come out of the coma. 

He looked at Michael lying on the examination table. No sparkle of life was in Michael's wide open blue eyes. The pale blue hospital gown emphasized the paleness of his face. His bloodless lips were slightly opened but only a ghost of breath escaped them. 

"Let's try electroshock again," Dr. Morris said in wretched voice. 

He brought the electrodes to Michael's temples. The electric charge arched Michel's body but didn't return him to life.

"More?" Special Agent #1 asked.

"No. It'll kill him. Let's take him home. We can do nothing more for him here."

Dr. Morris left the lab and wasn't surprised to see Jack sitting in a chair near the door. 

"How is he, Doc?" Jack asked getting up.

Dr. Morris paused eying Jack. Jack looked almost as bad as Michael. Jack had spent every day since the accident here, sitting in this chair or grabbing a few hours of sleep in a ward. Sometimes Dr. Morris allowed him to visit Michael and then Jack stood near the examination table holding Michael's hand. 

"No changes," Dr. Morris said finally. "I think he isn't coming out because he doesn't want to."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked frowning.

"He was in a very depressed emotional state before the accident. Now he's found a way to escape his problems."

"You trying to say he fell into a coma on purpose?"

"He lost consciousness because of the blow to his head. That was an accident. But then at a subconscious level, he has decided to remain in this state. The human mind is capable of many things."

"But why does he want to do it?"

Dr. Morris pierced Jack with his glare. "I think, Mr. Wallach, you know the answer to this question better than me."

Jack sat down in a chair, his pale face became ashen. 

"I'm already responsible for his injury, and now you saying I'm responsible for his coma," he whispered. 

Dr. Morris put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I want to take Mr. Wiseman home. Back to his townhouse. You can stay there with him. It might help if he knows he isn't alone."

Jack nodded. 

 

Michael was put on his bed in the townhouse on 63rd and Madison. The pillows supported his limp body in a semi-sitting position. A gray shirt covered his healed torso, his feet were wrapped with a gray blanket. 

'Gray doesn't suit him,' Jack thought idly standing near the bed and looking at Michael. 'His color is blue. Pale blue, deep blue – whatever, just not this fucking gray and this damn brick color.'

Jack approached the bed and sat on its edge. He reached out, habitually took Michael's fingers and entwined them with his own. He looked down on their connected hands. He always thought his hands were delicate but they looked almost rough compared with Michael's. Michael's hands looked so fragile but they were so strong and nimble. He brought Michael's palm to his lips and kissed it gently.

"Why did you do it, Michael?" he asked softy. "Why did you save my life and give up yours?" 

Michael stared blindly at the opposite wall, he didn't hear him. Jack eyed his face and once again his breath caught in his throat at the beauty of Michael. 

"You're so beautiful. Not only on the outside but inside too. Your spirit is so strong, your soul is so pure. You have a huge heart. Did I break it? God knows, I never wanted to hurt you. I just did what had to be done because it was the right thing to do. The right thing was to stop us. To leave you. We'd gone too far. You're too perfect to belong to me. You couldn't be mine and you shouldn't be mine. I know it in my mind. But in my heart... God help me, I love you. I want to hold you and never let you go. But you left me. Hiding far away and I can't reach you. Why did you do it? You should have let that tree to kill me and put an end to my misery. I can't... I can't live knowing I hurt you so badly that you decided to escape from this world."

Jack got up and turned away from the bed. Tears welled his eyes and ran down his face. He didn't try to stop them. He didn't have the strength left. 

Michael's eyelids fluttered and he blinked once, then again. Consciousness slowly returned to him and he looked around. He saw Jack's slouched figure standing near the bed, his head was lowered, his hands were shoved into his pockets and clenched into fists. Michael turned his head left and saw the closed blinds, then the turned his head right and looked at the clock. Almost midnight. 

"Why is the light still on?" he asked and was surprised how hoarse his voice sounded. 

Jack turned abruptly and stared at him, his eyes glistening in the bright light. He made a move as if he wanted to rush to the bed but in the last moment he braced himself. 

"Is that all you're interested in?" he asked, and his soft voice sounded more rusty than Michael's.

"No," Michael said eying him. "I'm also interested in knowing why are you such as self-confident bastard? Who gave you the right to decide for other people?"

Jack approached him slowly and whispered, "So you heard." 

Michael was horrified how badly Jack looked. His pale face was haggard, his hair was tousled, his shirt was dirty and wrinkled. Jack looked as if he hadn't sleep for a week, but anger quickly overwhelmed compassion, and Michael snapped, "Yeah. You did a great job. You made me fall in love with you and then you threw me out like trash. And now you're standing there ranting about doing the right thing and you don't care that I love you."

Michael's words and the look of his bright blue eyes pierced Jack's soul. 

"Michael..."

"You're a bastard, do you know that? It's my life and my right to decide what to do with it. Okay, Doc's too, but definitely not yours."

"Michael..."

"If you're so damn Mr. Right Thing, then why did you drag me away on that trip? Why did you start that... that and then push me away? Were you laughing at me?"

"No. No! I wanted you. I wanted you so badly. But my arm gave up and..."

Michael frowned. "What do you mean? What about your arm?" 

"I hurt it when I was in the crater of the asteroid. It goes numb from time to time. It's why I resigned as the president of FEMA. That night when I held you it became numb again. It brought me back to reality." 

Michael stared at Jack, the looks of the blue and green eyes met and held each other. Finally Michael said, "The Doc can fix it. He'll fix it and you'll throw all that nonsense out of your head."

"What nonsense?"

"About I can't belong to you."

Jack stared at him open-mouthed, "What?!"

"Did you hear me? I said I love you. You said you love me. Don't see why we can't be together. It's not like somebody is waiting for you or me."

"Michael, do you understand what are you talking about?"

"I do, but it seems like your brain works worse than mine half an hour ago. Don't think Doc will mind. In fact he should be happy because if you live here he can save money on surveillance at night."

"You have an answer to everything, right?"

Michael's cheeks and ears reddened suddenly. He lowered his head and murmured shyly, "I used to dream once about sharing this place with... someone."

Jack approached him and gently put his hand on Michael's chin lifting his head. "With me?"

The look of bright blue eyes answered him. Jack couldn't resist anymore. He leaned forward and kissed Michael's lips. Michael answered the kiss with passion, he wrapped his hands around Jack's neck pulling his head closer, his fingers dug into Jack's short blond hair. When they finally parted they both were breathing heavily.

"Not bad for the man just out of a coma," Jack panted. 

Michael smiled his lop-sided grin. "Hope I can do the other things not bad too. The problem is we should do them in a shower until Doc dismantles the camera up here."

The thought of Michael in a shower almost sent Jack over the edge but with willpower of steel he forced his body to obey. 

"We can do nothing until you recover," he said.

"I'm fine!" Michael protested. 

He tried to prove it by moving and moaned immediately when his stiff muscles made themselves felt. 

"You see? Where is your common sense?" Jack asked. "Let me help you."

He lowered Michael in the bed, made him comfortable and straightened a blanket. 

"Rest now. We'll talk tomorrow and discuss everything."

He turned off the light and the room was plunged into darkness.

"Jack?" Michael called.

"Yeah?"

"You need to rest, too, and this bed is pretty wide."

Jack hesitated, then pulled off his clothes and slipped under a blanket. Michael was lying on his side and Jack pressed his chest against Michael's warm back, his arm entwined Michael's slim waist pulling him closer. Michael sighed contentedly. The feeling of Jack's firm chest against his back was strange but not unpleasant. On the contrary, it felt so good and so... right. Michael smiled. Jack planted a soft kiss on his neck and asked, "What?"

"I think you managed to do the right thing after all."

Jack smiled too and buried his nose in the hair on the back of Michael's head.

"Night, Mr. Wiseman."

"Night, Mr. Wallach."

 

Dr. Morris turned off the monitor and turned away from the control panel in the truck. His scientific curiosity was satisfied and he had no intention of prying into Mr. Wiseman's personal life any further.

END


End file.
